


walk over you

by spikeymarshmallows



Series: look at me when i hurt you [7]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Pseudo-Incest, boot kink (kinda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21919696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikeymarshmallows/pseuds/spikeymarshmallows
Summary: Klaus likes Diego's vigilante getup.Hereallylikes Diego's boots.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: look at me when i hurt you [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595641
Comments: 14
Kudos: 187





	walk over you

**Author's Note:**

> *smashes into new fandom with something that is technically PWP but has surprise feelings*
> 
> Thank you to my favourite [emptydistractions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptydistractions/pseuds/emptydistractions) for the beta.

Klaus had managed to get the worst of the paint off of his forearms, but he'd kind of given up on the rest of it. Paint; it was the worst. It didn't matter how much he scrubbed, he always missed a spot and only realised it well after he'd left the shower and was pottering around in his underwear. Whatever, he was clean enough. At least he showered regularly now; everyone should be grateful, and not give him grief over a little paint.

Only Ben, and occasionally Diego, gave him shit for it. And whilst nobody said it, he knew they were glad he was doing something other than getting high all the time. It was the little things, you know? 

Besides, the paint was worth it. The bare walls were starting to fill with canvases in rich and vibrant colours, canvases that Klaus had covered himself. It was… nice. He hadn't had a space of his own since he'd left the mansion all those years ago, and there was certainly a deep satisfaction and joy that came from making a house into a home. Or rather, turning a bland two bedroom apartment into a home for himself and Diego. The decor didn't exactly match, and sometimes Klaus questioned Diego's ability (or lack thereof) with interior design, but it was theirs.

Klaus was sprawled out on the couch in his underwear and a silky kimono that barely grazed the top of his thighs. It had clearly been made for a woman far shorter than he, but he'd found it in a thrift store for $3, and it was  _ gorgeous _ . So what if it was a little short; it wasn't as if he had anything to hide. Besides, it's not like Diego minded how little he wore. In fact, he actively encouraged as little clothing as possible. 

The television hummed softly in the background, the world outside horribly dark. He knew that outside it would be getting colder as they crept into the early hours of the morning but inside the apartment it was warm. If it weren't, there was no way he'd be able to lounge around in as little as he did.

Their inheritance had finally come through. Well, Diego's inheritance had finally come through. It was how they'd been able to afford a new place, once it became apparent that this  _ thing _ they had going on wasn't going to be stopping any time soon, and that the boiler room was more than a little cramped with two people actually living in it. Klaus' inheritance wouldn't show for another few months of aching sobriety. Even in death, his father had found yet another way to dick him around. But Klaus had always been more resilient than his father's asshattery and Diego was more than willing to share the (admittedly grossly large amount of) money as it trickled through. They were living together, they were… good. They were  _ together _ together, so Diego apparently felt it was only fair, particularly given that he didn't really  _ need _ that money now that he had added training children in boxing at his gym. The inheritance had bought them an apartment and with that expense covered, and as long as Klaus stayed in Boring Sobrietyville, they were… Well, they were good.

Soon Diego would be home, but only for a few hours. He'd come in, give Klaus a short and sweet kiss, cook them both something, and he'd rest for a bit, Klaus using him as his pillow, before he headed off to his day job. Klaus would stay home or wander the city, paint when inspiration struck him, and generally go where his bliss took him. Well, as long as that bliss didn't include whatever drugs he could get his hands on. He was also expressly forbidden from entering the kitchen. The only thing he knew how to cook was crack, and it turned out those skills were not transferable to other culinary arts. Mom had taught Diego because he had wanted to spend time with her, so despite him working and vigilante-ing, he still did all of the cooking. Klaus liked to think he made up for it in mind-blowing blowjobs. Diego, try as he might, still couldn't suck his own dick.

He let his head fall over the back of the couch, bored. At least his body didn't feel like it was on fire, or like ants were crawling in the space between muscle and skin. He was just… bored. Television at this hour was shit. Even Ben had long given up on the atrocious quality of the TV before he'd disappeared to wherever the fuck it was that he went. This was what nobody told you about being a jobless insomniac recovering from addiction, or about having a vigilante boyfriend. Nobody warned you that you'd spend too many hours watching mind-numbingly bad television, waiting for them to come home and fill the empty spaces that were suddenly starkly apparent.

Just as he felt his eyes start to droop he heard the soft click of the deadlock. Even though Diego knew that when he came home in the early hours of the morning Klaus would be awake nine times out of ten, he always made an effort to be silent lest this be one of the rare occasions that Klaus was able to sleep without the sound of a heartbeat beneath his ear.

Klaus sat up a little as he saw Diego enter the shadowy living room. He was moving normally, not dragging his feet as he would after a particularly bad night, or limping as if he were injured. Instead, his face broke into a grin as he saw Klaus was still awake waiting for him on the couch. Knowing Diego, he'd probably been in a scuffle and come out of it easily. Nothing made him happier than  _ fighting the good fight, baby _ .

"Hey," Diego said softly, locking the door behind him.

Despite his earlier sleepiness, Klaus crossed the small living area to wrap his arms around Diego's neck. 

"Hey," Klaus returned, giving him a sweet and gentle kiss. "Is everyone in the city safe now?"

"For now." Diego grinned, leaning in to give him another kiss. "You missed some green here," he told him as they broke away, poking Klaus' cheek where there was no doubt another smear of paint that he'd missed. Diego pulled him back for another brief squeeze, and Klaus shivered at the leather on his warm skin.

When Diego withdrew this time, he flicked a few of the lights on; the ones in the kitchen, the bulk of the lights over the living and dining area. Light flooded the space. The apartment wasn't all that big really, but it was certainly several steps up from the boiler room. They'd only been living here for a few months, and it certainly felt smaller than it had when they'd first moved in, but it didn't feel  _ cramped _ or  _ overwhelming _ . It just felt like home.

"Have you eaten?" Diego asked him from the fridge, frowning down at the contents as if they might be able to answer some of life's great mysteries.

"No, but I'm not hungry," Klaus said, perching himself on the counter to watch. He regretted that instantly as cold marble met the warm bare skin of his thighs.

He saw Diego's frown change, but he didn't say anything. He knew better than to push Klaus to eat unless it had been a few days. It had been months and months of sobriety but his body still had days where things weren't quite stable, didn't feel quite right. Some days he ate as if that was his only mission; some days he couldn't stomach more than a few saltines. Diego tried to let it go--some days with more success than others.

Diego shut the fridge, coming out empty-handed.

"Yeah, I get that," he said, pulling a face. It was unusual for him not to be hungry after wandering the city for hours, kicking ass and taking names, but it happened occasionally. Sometimes the adrenaline hadn't worn off, and he'd go to bed with nothing more than a protein shake in him, and Klaus would wake to an utterly ravenous boyfriend. Brother. Whatever.

He turned around to Klaus, rubbing a thumb over the stubble on Klaus' jawline before kissing him; slow and sweet at first but getting dirty quickly. Any hints of weariness that Klaus had been feeling a few minutes previously disappeared with the kisses. The knives strapped to Diego's chest felt like ice against Klaus' warmed skin and he shivered, torn between hating the unexpected cold and loving the reminder that Diego looked hot as  _ fuck _ in his getup.

Much to Klaus' chagrin, Diego pulled away far too soon, easing away from the kiss just as Klaus tried to deepen it. Diego's leather-clad hands gripped Klaus' curls, not allowing him to chase after the mouth he so desperately wanted. Diego tutted quietly and Klaus sagged, grumbling. So it was going to be like that tonight, was it?

Diego completely withdrew from Klaus, smirking as he sauntered over to the couch. He dropped down onto it, looking far too graceful in such a graceless move. Klaus followed after, eyes unable to leave Diego's as he crossed the space. Diego hadn't made to remove any of his ensemble, not the gloves, not the boots. Oh, so it was going to be one of  _ those _ nights then? Diego did know how much Klaus loved his outfit…

Once Klaus was in touching distance, Diego reached out and gripped his hips, pressing a brief kiss to a jutting hip bone before bringing him in so that he was straddling his lap. Warm leather slid into his hair as he was pulled into a languid kiss. He let himself be wrapped in Diego's arms, shivering at each touch of the knives against his bare skin. A part of him wanted to tell Diego to take them off so that he could get in closer, feel more of him, but god, it sure as hell did things for him seeing Diego dressed like that. It was lucky that Diego's vigilante hours didn't require him to keep a strict schedule because more than once Diego had been far later leaving than he wanted given Klaus' interest (read: obsession) with Diego's vigilante look.

He ground down on Diego's lap, heat thrumming through his body already, hot with the knowledge that Diego was in a mood and when Diego was in a mood, Klaus got more than he could bargain for. And who was Klaus if not someone who thrived on getting more than he bargained for? Every time he tried to take things further, Diego's hands tightened just shy of painful in his hair, keeping Klaus exactly where Diego wanted him to be.

"Behave," Diego growled at him, forcing his head into a tilt so that he could bite at Klaus' neck, stubble scratching across the sensitive skin. He bit particularly hard, making Klaus gasp before softening what, with his tongue. His other hand circled Klaus' waist, gripping his wrist and pinning it at the small of his back.

Klaus whined, grinding down harder. Even through the thick leather, he could feel where Diego was hot and hard below him. God, he wanted it, however Diego wanted him to have it. Just… Whatever he wanted, Klaus would do it.

"Patience…" Diego murmured against his mouth.

"No…" he whined back, dragging out the 'o' in a way that was patently  _ him _ . "C'mon… It's late. Lemme help you relax." He said it as if he were being generous, benevolent, and not as if he weren't thirsting to get Diego inside of him in some way or another.

Diego hummed softly before his teeth sank into the flesh of Klaus' shoulder. His kimono had fallen down to his elbows but he'd barely paid it heed. He panted from the sharpness of Diego's bite, that same glorious mix of pleasure-pain that he was so familiar with, that  _ Diego _ was so familiar with giving.

Eventually he released his grip on Klaus' twisted wrist. He didn't let go of his hair though and instead half-guided, half-dragged Klaus to his knees between Diego's legs. Klaus pushed the kimono the rest of the way off, his underwear too just for good measure, as Diego used one hand to release his belt, the button of his leather pants, and the zipper, freeing his erection whilst otherwise remaining fully clothed.  _ Hnng _ . Yes, please. 

The hold in Klaus' hair eased finally as Klaus moved forward eagerly to suck him down, fingers combing through his hair and smoothing it back. Klaus sometimes liked to tease, but instant gratification had always been his thing. He swallowed Diego down, revelling in the sharp exhale he gave that morphed into a low groan.

"That never gets old," Diego breathed. Klaus heard his head fall back against the couch, and when he glanced up through his eyelashes Diego's eyes were closed.

Klaus hummed, taking him further down until his nose hit Diego's hard abs. It always pleased him when he was able to do that so easily. Diego wasn't small by any stretch (heh, stretch) of the imagination, and whilst Klaus considered himself pretty damn excellent at sucking dick, it had taken a few attempts originally to be able to handle Diego's size with the ease he now did.

He began to work Diego over in earnest, little thrills of pleasure shooting up his spin as Diego made small sounds of pleasure, deep quiet moans at the back of his throat. Diego wasn't particularly vocal, something that had not surprised but had frustrated Klaus initially. Rather than complain (much), he'd just upped his game until Diego couldn't help but vocally acknowledge Klaus' skills. When he did something that Diego was particularly fond of, his hands would tighten in Klaus' hair, hips stuttering forward and making Klaus choke just a little. Klaus slackened his jaw, and Diego took the invitation to fuck his face. Klaus' eyes ran, drool quickly running down his chin, and he loved every second of it. His dick loved Diego, possibly as much as his heart loved him; it took so little to get Klaus raring to go when Diego was involved. Even with as little attention as it had received, his dick was already hard. He knew Diego didn't like him to touch himself without permission but with his mouth full, throat being used as such, it was a little difficult to ask the requisite question.

"Hmm, baby, you like that?" Diego asked, teasing as he eased off on the facefucking of a lifetime.

"Muh?" Klaus managed, letting Diego's cock leave his mouth, if only for a second. As he did he realised he'd been grinding down on one of Diego's boots, tiny little thrusts to ease the pressure.

"Didn't say you could touch yourself," Diego chided gently, very clearly more amused at the situation than annoyed. "Trust you to always find a loophole."

Klaus winked and went back to sucking Diego's cock like he was starving for it. Diego let him take the reins for a little before he resumed his facefucking in earnest. When Diego got like this, it was wisest for Klaus to just sit back and let Diego take over. Klaus had never regretted it, loving the way Diego would take control, would use him exactly the way Klaus liked to be used. It was difficult to balance the line of wanting to be used versus  _ feeling _ used, and Diego treaded it carefully.

Now that Diego had pointed it out, Klaus noticed how he kept pressing against the boots, little movements of the hips giving him respite. The laces felt good, adding delicious friction and sensation to the underside of his cock. He knew Diego liked it when he was like this, all desperate and needy, not caring what it was he ground against. He wistfully recalled that one Sunday morning where Diego had pinned him to the mattress, making him rut against the cool sheets until he was sobbing and shaking. He loved grinding against Diego's thigh until Diego was wild with it, dragging him towards the centre and making him ride Diego's cock instead. The boots were new, but it felt so fucking good that he didn't want to stop, particularly when Diego was back to abusing his throat the way they both liked it. Diego's hand slid from Klaus' curls to the front of his throat, feeling himself through the skin. Klaus whined. Such a tease.

Diego ceased his movements, keeping Klaus' face pressed down as far as he could go. Klaus went limp, knowing what was coming. It felt good, so good, his lungs screaming out for air that they couldn't get, throat constricting around Diego's cock as his body twitched and fought; an instinctive response that he had no desire or need to suppress. Just when it felt like too much, Diego yanked him off, Klaus gasping desperately for air. He managed two, maybe three breaths before Diego pushed him down again, holding him there until he couldn't possibly take any more, doing it again and again until Klaus was shuddering and shaking. By the time he eased off, Klaus felt soft and hazy, like maybe he was the ghost instead of just being haunted by one. At least when he was with Diego, at least like this, no ghosts ever dared show their face. At least like this he was safe.

Diego resumed his movements of fucking Klaus' face, hips stuttering as he neared his completion. Klaus inadvertently found himself grinding harder against Diego's boots, desperate to feel Diego come, to taste him. It was all good, all so good, so overwhelmingly good and—Diego came with a groan, heat and salt and bitterness flooding Klaus' mouth. He kept going, licking and sucking until Diego was flinching and gasping with oversensitivity. Slowly, Diego withdrew his cock, breathing hard as he sank back into the couch. He tucked himself away, finally catching his breath, drool be damned. Klaus supposed it didn't matter; they'd shower after this anyway.

Diego leaned forward to kiss Klaus, drawing his face into his hands with a tenderness that contrasted so strongly to the brutality of the previous few minutes. It shouldn't have made Klaus as happy as it did that Diego always wanted to kiss him, whether he'd come in his mouth or not, but it did. He hummed happily, sitting up a little further and letting himself melt into the touches.

"Uh uh," Diego tutted against his mouth. He pushed his boot up a little higher, making Klaus gasp; he hadn't even realised he'd still been grinding against it, pressing and pushing himself against the leather. "I don't recall saying you could keep that up."

Klaus whined, not stilling the too-good movements. "Yeah, well, you know how I hate your big dumb combat boots," Klaus said sarcastically. The sass was lost amongst the breathiness of his tone and he gasped as Diego's hands found his curls again and  _ twisted _ just so. He stilled.

"Now, now, Klaus," Diego said softly, dragging his nose along Klaus' jawline until his lips hovered over his ear. "You know the rules about lying. You can say whatever bullshit pops into that pretty little head of yours, but you aren't allowed to lie to me."

Despite the harsh hold in his hair, Klaus laughed. Diego  _ knew _ how much Klaus loved his ridiculous outfit, so it wasn't really a lie. High on the adrenaline of before, he wanted nothing more than to push Diego, to see where this led. "And god, how much I hate the leather. The knives, the worst. My least favourite part, reall-ah, ah, ow!" His words were cut off by Diego yanking his head to the side, grip somehow tighter than it already had been. Pain made him shiver again.

Diego sat back, watching him with a blank face. Klaus grinned back, daring him with a look. Diego's face morphed as he raised an eyebrow, and Klaus  _ knew _ he was in trouble now. Diego leaned forward again, nipping at the edge of his jaw before he spoke. Diego's tone was dangerous, and it sent a shiver up Klaus' spine. "Just for that, I want you to  _ show  _ me just how much you like my outfit." He kicked his boot up a little, carefully controlled but so fucking close to almost kicking Klaus where it would  _ really _ hurt that he gasped and tried to flinch away on instinct.

"Wha?" Klaus asked intelligently.

"Show me…" Diego said, as if Klaus were slow, "how much… you like my outfit. You know I hate it when you lie, Klaus." And to emphasise the point, he gently pressed the toe of his boot up against where Klaus was still painfully hard.

Oh-ho! Klaus could certainly play this game. He grinned at Diego and, ignoring the pain in his scalp, he ground down just as Diego had requested. It felt good; what felt even better was Diego's hungry eyes on him, watching as he displayed a rare stroke of obedience. Diego was in charge, was always in charge, but it didn't mean that Klaus always obeyed.

Diego sat back on the couch again, letting his hands drop by his sides. Klaus gave him a heated look as he kept up the tiny movements of his hips, biting his lip. It  _ did _ feel good. It probably wasn't enough to make him come but god, he could keep this up for a while. It would be fun to edge himself like this, he thought. Would be fun to grind and grind until he couldn't take it anymore, until he was dripping and begging, until Diego was hard again and could bring him up onto the couch and fuck him to within an inch of his life, knives pressed against his skin, hand tight on his throat. The thought alone made him whimper and press himself down harder, eyes fluttering shut as he found a better rhythm, a better angle.  _ Hmmm. _ Maybe he would be able to come like this after all.

"Look at you," Diego crooned, smirking. "Seems to me like someone  _ does _ like the outfit."

Never one to let an opportunity to sass pass by, Klaus grinned. "Oh, this? No, no, I'm just doing this because I'm a very obedient boy."

Diego snorted.

"I think it's evident I'm hating every second of this." Klaus wanted more, wanted to see how hard he could push Diego before he got impatient and cruel. Maybe Diego would slap him; god, yes, he wanted Diego to slap him. 

"What did I say about lying, Klaus?" Diego asked, voice all honey and patience.

"That you'd prefer if I did it more?" Klaus hazarded sweetly. Normally it was around this point that Diego would slap him. To Klaus' great disappointment, it did not appear to be one of those nights. Damn it. Diego was not known for his patience, but Klaus knew otherwise. Diego  _ was _ patient, but only when it suited him. He was immeasurably patient with Klaus, had been so in those first few rocky months following the not-apocalypse when Klaus had been mourning Dave, when he'd been fighting tooth and nail to last more than those first thirty days of sobriety. He'd been patient as Klaus had stumbled through the grief and into Diego's bed. He'd been endlessly patient then, no matter what Klaus had thrown at him and he'd been the sole constant in Klaus' life other than Ben. So yeah, Diego was patient when it mattered.

Diego was also patient when he felt like being a dick.

And tonight, it seemed, Diego was feeling patient, and Klaus was going to hate every second of it.

Without realising it, Klaus had stilled in his movements, too busy watching Diego's face, saccharine and no doubt hiding wicked plans for Klaus.

Diego seemed to notice this too. "I didn't say you could stop," he said flatly.

Klaus shivered at the tone and resumed his movements. The tiniest trill of shame shot through him, but it was brief and so small that he wondered if it had even been there. Klaus was many things, but ashamed was not one of them.

After what felt like a lifetime of grinding, breathy little whines escaping Klaus' mouth, Diego watching him intently, Diego finally opened his mouth to say something. Klaus hoped it would be an order to tell him to stop, to climb into his lap and ride Diego until he was crying. He whimpered at the thought.

"Hands behind your back, and keep them there."

Klaus whimpered fully. "But. That's not fair," he protested, not stilling his movements. He was enjoying touching Diego's leg, trailing hands up and down, using it to help him balance.

"Didn't say I was playing fair, sweetheart."

Klaus sniffled. He wound his hands around the opposite wrist, letting them settle at the small of his back. Now this… This was doing something else for him. He didn't feel shame easily and it wasn't quite what he was feeling now either. As he resumed his movements under Diego's careful gaze he realised what it was through the flutters of pleasure. He felt  _ seen _ . He felt  _ vulnerable _ . And despite all of the times Diego took him apart, all that they'd been through together, it still felt new and strange and  _ terrifying _ to be vulnerable like this. His skin flushed from forehead to chest, and he bit his lip. This… This shouldn't be doing this to him. Diego tied him up all the damn time, and yet somehow the act of bringing his hands behind him like this did it.

Fuck.

Diego leaned forward a little, hands running from Klaus' arm up to his shoulder, fingertips grazing his jawline, thumbing at his lower lip, before moving on. His surprisingly delicate touch ran down his neck to the scar across his collarbone, thumb pressing next against another scar on his left arm, trailing to the ones on his lower chest, the smaller ones across his abdomen. The air felt a little thinner as Klaus remembered those nights where he'd beg Diego to make it hurt; how Diego would use the same knives that usually harmed to heal, a brutal act given with aching love and tenderness.

Diego's eyes flicked back up to Klaus', and he cleared his throat. The spell was broken and and Klaus remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He started his little movements again, falling back into the haze of pleasure, riding that horribly vulnerable and open feeling and channeling it into lust.

His skin felt too hot, too sensitive, the warm feeling curling through his stomach and chest as he moved. It still felt so good, and he pondered for a moment if he would actually be able to come like this, if Diego would want him like that. Maybe he'd let Klaus lick it up after and call him a good boy.

Klaus cursed inwardly yet again that tonight seemed to be one of Diego's patient nights. Surely by now he'd have given up. His pupils were blown and he was so obviously hard under his leather pants, his dick apparently forgetting that it was meant to have some kind of refractory period.

The heat continued to build and Klaus lost himself more and more in the moment. Fuck, it felt good, the friction just shy of painful. He wished he had some lube, but christ, if he just kept this up a little longer maybe he'd be able to come, to find relief. He didn't want to break the moment, didn't want to lose the progress he'd made. Little sounds escaped his mouth. Diego looked like he was struggling to breathe, gloves creaking as he clenched and unclenched his hands. Klaus blinked dozily up at him through his eyelashes. One of the knives strapped against Diego's chest caught the light above and glinted. Klaus found himself staring at it, licking his lips at the thought of it dragging along his skin.

"Hands," Diego warned suddenly. Klaus stopped, hating himself for doing so before realising what Diego was picking at. Normally one to fight, Klaus surprised even himself when he clasped the wrists that had fallen away behind his back again.

"Please, Diego, I've learned my lesson. No more lying," Klaus implored, wanting the torture to end and for Diego to drag him up onto the couch with him, throw him over the arm and fuck inside him. He was so painfully hard now, feeling like he was already coming apart at the seams. His body shook, and he was close to begging Diego, doing anything, anything he wanted, just please, let him come.

"I don't know that you have," Diego teased back.

Klaus whined. "C'mon, man, don't be stupid. Just let me come, for fuck's sake!" He knew he was being impudent, that most of the time Diego loved that in him. But there were some days, some moods where Diego absolutely didn't want to put up with Klaus' sassy mouth. 

Diego quirked an eyebrow, seemingly unmoved. 

"Don't be an asshole, Diego!" It spilled out of him before he could even think better of it. Klaus, if he had any sense of self-preservation, might have regretted it. 

Diego's other eyebrow lifted, and despite the humour in his eyes the rest of his face flattened again. He leant in close again and bit Klaus' jaw  _ hard _ before crooning against his ear, "You know what? Just for that, I'm not going to fuck you. You can come like this, or not at all."

"Diego!"

"Should have thought of that before you decided to sass me, baby."

Klaus let out a string of curse words that barely made sense, and Diego snorted before withdrawing. It was such a push and pull between them, and sometimes that aroused Klaus as much as the physical contact on his dick. Diego playing with his dick was nice; Diego  _ being _ a dick while Klaus' dick was out? Even nicer.

He pressed his face down into Diego's thigh, gasping, burying little sounds against the leather, nose inadvertently brushing Diego's holster. For a little while, the only sounds in the room were that of distant-sounding traffic outside, his little sounds of miserable pleasure, and the rustle of him grinding himself up against Diego's boots.

And then suddenly… "Up, up," Diego said gruffly, pulling him up and spinning him slightly before Klaus could get his bearings. He moaned weakly, frustrated that he'd lost his rhythm yet again. It was the cruellest torture, this kind of edging. "You're not listening to me." He heard the telltale metal clinks and swish as Diego yanked his belt off and drew Klaus' wrists together. He'd found a belt a few months back that had extra loops and holes that could easily be converted into cuffs. Generally speaking, Klaus maintained that it was an excellent investment. Except for right now. Right now, he hated the fucking belt. With Klaus' wrists secured behind him, Diego sat back on the couch again. Klaus wanted to kiss the stupid smug expression off his face.

"As you were." Diego grinned.

"I fuckin' hate you," Klaus muttered, cheeks red, gasping as he felt Diego's boot press up a little more sharply. "Ey, easy on the goods!" he protested.

"I wouldn't lie again, if I were you," Diego told him flatly, although his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Lying is what got you into this mess."

"Yeah, but right now, I really, really do hate you. I'm not lying about that," Klaus whined, even as his voice got breathier from the pleasure curling through him again.

Diego sat up further, getting his face close to Klaus' again. His eyes were hard, expression far less amused now. "Go on, Klaus. Try me. See how that works out for you."

Klaus knew deep down that Diego wouldn't hurt him. Or rather, he wouldn't hurt him in any way that Klaus would truly hate. But something in his eyes brooked no argument, told him that pushing Diego right now would be a bad idea. Knowing Diego, whatever punishment he devised would probably be something awful, like letting Klaus finally get close and then denying him at the last minute.

He shuddered.

Diego was still staring him down. Klaus bit his lip, looking back up at him through his eyelashes. He nodded a little, feeling something akin to shame brushing past him.

"Good boy," Diego murmured, giving him a soft kiss before sitting back. "Now get back to it. We don't have all night."

"Why did you have to pick tonight of all nights to be patient?" Klaus moaned, voice bordering on teary.

"Haven't learned patience. Just like torturin' you, baby."

"Fucking knew it," Klaus muttered, more to himself than anything. With a look from Diego, he resumed his movements.

The edge of the belt cut into his wrists. His skin felt hot all over. His abs, his ass, his quads, all screamed at him for the sudden introduction of physical activity that wasn't a typical part of his sex life. Every muscle in his body shook, whether from exertion or desperation he wasn't sure.

His stupid fucking orgasm was so close, so fucking close, but he still couldn't get over that last hump. He was out of his mind, all of his thoughts swirling around how badly he wanted, how desperately he needed, Diego, please, please. Everything felt fuzzy except Diego, his cock, his need; those all felt crisp, their lines too sharp, everything a little too much.

"Please," he breathed again, burying his face against Diego's thigh, panting against the leather. "Please, can… can we… Diego, please…"

"I don't know what you're asking, baby," Diego teased.

"Please, can… Can I come?" he managed, for once at a total loss of words.

"Of course you can, baby. Any time you feel ready, you can come." Diego's voice was sickly sweet and Klaus had never loved and hated him more.

Klaus sobbed again, and this time he felt tears pricking at the edge of his eyes. He felt leather gloves at his neck, in his hair again, somehow setting his skin further alight as Klaus desperately pressed himself against Diego's boots, over and over and over. It was too much. God, it was too much, and it hurt, and he couldn't tell if it hurt good or just plain hurt.

He looked up at Diego, desperation in his eyes. Diego was staring down at him and now that their eyes had met, Klaus found it impossible to look away. Dark brown eyes bore into his, and although he didn't say it then, Diego's voice came into his mind as it did so often.  _ You look me in the eye when I hurt you.  _ That thought alone, a hundred memories of Diego demanding that horribly vulnerable eye contact, was what brought him over the edge.

When his orgasm hit, it felt like it was punched out of him. He broke their eye contact as his teeth found Diego's knee through the leather, biting down hard as he muffled his cry. He didn't even care if he was hurting Diego, just bit down as whiteness and pain and pleasure flooded through him. His orgasm lasted longer than he knew orgasms could last and he wasn't entirely sure he didn't black out, just a little. He sagged against Diego's leg, panting as if he'd run a mile; and Klaus  _ really _ didn't run.

"Hey, it's okay." Diego's voice was soothing and the leather gloves were gone, slightly cool fingertips brushing over Klaus' damp cheeks. "You did so well…"

Klaus struggled to sit up, feeling a little unsteady.

"Hey, hey, take it easy. No need to rush." Diego leant over him and Klaus sank back against him, paying the mess between them no heed. He felt Diego's weight against him, the momentary fumble as he released the belt constricting his hands. His arms fell forward limply, too heavy to lift. Diego didn't go too far, his mouth near Klaus' ear.

"You know, part of me wants to make you lick it clean," he said in a low voice. Klaus shivered and if there had been any power left in his dick, he was sure it would have given a valiant twitch.

He pushed back a little, aiming to sit up and do as Diego asked but Diego pulled a tight arm around him, keeping him there. After a brief squeeze he sat back up, a little smile playing on his face. "Maybe next time," he said. He eased Klaus off his leg and quickly shucked the knives, those damn boots, his sweater and his pants. Klaus just watched dumbly, mind still fuzzy and hazy and honey-slow. Clad only in his underwear and undershirt, Diego scooped Klaus up off the floor and into his lap. Klaus hadn't understood why he was stripping off, but now that he was being held, he realised how nice the extra skin-to-skin contact was.

Klaus floated a little, curled up in Diego's lap. Despite the similarity in their stature, he still felt small, protected, held like he was something precious. Every so often he'd feel a kiss pressed to his damp temple, fingers carding through his hair, nails gently scratching across his scalp.

He didn't know quite how long they sat there, but he did know that by the time he could think again the sky was beginning to shift from pitch black to an indigo blue, and that one of his legs was well and truly asleep. Diego, it seemed, was almost there too. He nudged Diego with his elbow, a grumbling sound low in his throat.

"C'mon… Shower. Bed…" His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

"Shhh, 'm giving you aftercare," Diego said, mouth pressed against his head.

Klaus snorted. His aftercare needs were minimal, something he paid little heed to. But Diego, for all of his desire to flout rules, took it seriously. Sometimes Klaus swore it was more for Diego than it was for Klaus himself. Klaus got that. Diego didn't like being vulnerable any more than Klaus did, and maybe this was just his excuse to get cuddles in. He'd once told Klaus in the early hours of the morning that it was nice, that it was his way of checking that Klaus still loved him, no matter how mean Diego got in those moments. 

"Yeah, well, I want a shower and bed," Klaus whined. He got it, sure. But he was tired and sticky. Diego could cuddle him in the shower.

"Ugh, the things I do for love." It only half-surprised Klaus that Diego didn't try to actually carry him to their bathroom; instead choosing to only lead him by the hand. They could clean up later. He seemed to find some energy once they were under the hot spray, exchanging small kisses as Diego soaped him up.

By the time they crawled into bed, Klaus warm and sore in ways he wasn't used to being, the sky had developed a gentle orange glow. He tucked himself against Diego, resting his head against his chest so he could listen to his heartbeat as he fell asleep.

"You know, next time you could make me lick it up after," Klaus said around a yawn. "I wouldn't mind."

Diego snorted. "Not even recovered from the first time and you're already asking for a next time? Clearly I was too nice to you."

Klaus was too tired to bite out a retort of his usual calibre and instead went with a disgruntled sound.

Diego pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Go to sleep."

And in a rare case of events, Klaus actually did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm hoping to expand on this universe with surprisingly gentle knife-porn. :3
> 
> Coming soon to an Ao3 near you... More porn. 
> 
> I have a lot of feelings about Service Top Diego Hargreeves. Please feel free to slide into my comments/DM's/etc. 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/spikeymarshmllw) | [tumblr](https://spikeymarshmallows.tumblr.com/) | [dreamwidth](https://spikeymarshmallows.dreamwidth.org/)


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